


Twice the Tale

by Hunter_Caprittarius



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Cursed Gaston (Disney), Friendship, Gaston Lives (Disney), Gaston as Beast (Disney), Light Angst, Post-Canon, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2020-11-24 15:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hunter_Caprittarius/pseuds/Hunter_Caprittarius
Summary: The Enchantress's curse has worn off but she's not done. The cycle is about to start over again.[A "The Beast Returns, More Or Less" rewrite]





	1. Chapter 1

The French countryside is a lovely place, characterized by charming architecture, charming people, and generally charming weather. Apart from the occasional (and not very charming) plague, not much ever happens in the French countryside.

Usually. There are, of course, exceptions. For example, twenty years ago things became very interesting for a whole castle of people. This was the work of a fairy. One very vengeful fairy.

On a dark and stormy night, all those years ago, Agatha flitted down to the windowsill of a castle, tucking translucent wings into the folds if her being. Through the glass, she could see a thriving party. Not far from here villagers sat huddled in their ramshackle houses, cold and miserable. The children ate meager broth from chipped bowls while the adults toiled to circulate what little money they had. Pathetic little things.

Yet here, safe from the storm, aristocrats stuffed themselves gluttonously and spun like peacocks in their ridiculous dress.

Humans, oh how she hated humans. Impudent wretches, defying the natural order. It was their fault that she'd been banished by her kind for the rest of eternity and she would have her revenge. She buzzed with excitement, drops of rain evaporating on contact with her skin, glowing with magic. She had planned this for years now, from the moment that damnable king and his wife brought their mewling babe into the world.

Dropping from the windowsill, Agatha stretched her form into that of a bent old woman. As she approached the door, she stopped to pluck a single rose from the garden. She twirled it in her leathery hand. The wood in the door sensed her approach and, though weak from spending years away from the Earth, bent to her will, swinging open.

She was noticed immediately. The young prince strode up and Agatha found herself staring at his ridiculous shoes as he walked. They were leather (disgusting) and had obtuse silver buckles sewn to the front. Only when the heels of those shoes stopped and clicked together did Agatha look the prince in the face. Her nose wrinkled at his stench, far more punjent than any other in the room: the smell of greed and entitlement. Under all that makeup the boy couldn't have been more than eleven. So young and yet so far gone.

Agatha's hand shook with age as presented the rose, her gift, to the prince. He only scoffed.

Again she implored him to take it, but he slapped her hand away.

The prince turned to leave and a wicked grin split Agatha's face. She grabbed his wrist and pushed the rose into his hand, hard, the thorns pricked his skin and Drew blood. He gasped. Before letting go Agatha infused the rose with a single drop of her immortality. It would last two decades at most before all them magic had been she'd and the flower would die.

The prince stumbled back and Agatha grinned more. All the magic she'd saved up over the years was buzzing under her skin. It exploded.

A multiple-voiced shriek, part scream, part laugh, tore from Agatha as she drained herself. The entire castle was engu!fed with light. But somehow, through the glare, Agatha managed to catch the young boy's eyes. They were wide and terrified and full of pain. He was only a child after all. His lip was quivering and he had begun to cry.

Something tugged at Agatha's heart and for a single moment she had second thoughts. What if she spared he child?

Then cruel memories seared her mind. She remembered being caught and beaten by humans while in the form of a deer when she was young and inexperienced. She'd taken the form of a human child, hoping to receive some mercy from her captors. Instead it made them more cruel. She'd spent years in a freak show, beaten and malnourished and displayed for the humans' entertainment: the Beast Girl. When she finially amassed the strength to kill her captors and return home she had been turned away. Her kind said she was tainted by sin and unfit to live on their land.

She'd received no mercy as a child, and neither would this boy; it was time for a human to know what it felt like to be a beast.

And so it was done.

•0•0•0•

At present Agatha was perched on top of one of the castle's plentiful gargoyles. She swung her feet over the edge and waved a pale hand over the balcony down below, where two figures were huddled in the rain. The rain sizzled and popped as her magic turned into bright streams of sparkling light.

Adam turned back into a human.

Agatha was surprised at how different he looked, deep down she had been expecting the same child from so long ago. Instead she saw a changed man. Although, his eyes were the same: still as blue and young as they had been. That almost made her smile.

But Agatha was not yet satisfied. Her wrath had been aimed at humans for nearly a century now and it would be longer than that before she forgave them for her pain. She would need to move on soon, to find a new victim.

It took an incredible amount of magic to transform a whole castle of people; so much magic that, until the curse was lifted, Agatha was limited to small, boring spells (like turning apples to oranges and vice versa). The mass expenditure of magic had also limited her mobility and bound her to the castle. She had spent the last twenty years hiding in mirrors and between cobblestones, watching Adam.

She was, overall, pleased with Adam's results. At first, she had resigned to having to spend two decades watching him sulk, but then Belle had shown up. Agatha would be sad to see this new Adam go.

It was true that Agatha despised humanity. However, any human that managed to undo a curse of hers held a special place in her heart. To her, those humans weren't really humans anymore; they were something else, something a little magic.

Something wiggled in the back of Agatha's mind and she remembered raven hair. Her gaze turned South to the castle bridge and the river under it. Perhaps there she would find a new human.

Agatha rose from her perch and glided down to the riverbed. There lay a corpse. She'd hoped he had survived the fall. Although, that was probably too much to ask of a human, even a human like Gaston. They were, for all their powers of destruction, themselves fragile and breakable. Agatha had half the mind to leave him dead, after all, what was one more dead human? But then, much could come from this.

Perhaps as a beast Gaston would go wild, killing the entire village. Or—far less likely but just as, if not more interesting—he would succeed.

Mortality meant nothing to fae. Agatha flicked her wrist and Gaston gasped. She took another human form.

"Now then," Agatha knelt down to look more closely at the hunter, "What would you give for a second chance?"

Gaston whined. Agatha scowled.

"What's the matter?" She prodded his arm, earning another pitchy squeal. It was then that she realized that, although her powers had restored Gaston's soul, is body was still very much broken. Practically shattered. Oh.

Agatha quickly mended him, annoyed, and tried again, "Human."

Gaston spat at her.

•0•0•0•

Gaston woke up in agony. Every single bone, every muscle, even his mind was screaming out in utter devastation.

Everything was somehow, completely, undeniably wrong. Wrong. Wrong! It felt like his insides were trying to rip through his skin. His organs felt ready to explode. There was nothing but pain.

Then a smooth voice was speaking his body tried to call back.

The next few seconds of pain dragged on until, with a bright flash, it ended.

The voice was speaking again and Gaston looked up at the speaker.

A beautiful woman stared down at him, she was elegantly adorned in white silks and her golden hair billowed down to her hips.

She had asked him a question, but Gaston hadn't been listening. One look at the woman and Gaston knew, 'she did this'. She had one hand held out to him, pale skin glinting like snow in the moonlight; Gaston spat on it.

Unexpectedly, the woman gave him a twisted, toothy smile and said, "Perfect."

A brilliant golden light burst from her fingertips and wrapped around his neck. It blinded and suffocated him, seeped into his blood stream. The witch gave him a searing look and disappeared, leaving Gaston to his transformation.

He grabbed at his chest as his bones contorted and cracked painfully. First his back bent in two. Then his knees snapped inside out. Next his ribcage blew out, his heart seizing wildly. After that came his jaw and neck, both dislocating themselves and solidifying into new, twisted shapes. Overcome, Gaston fell to the ground, writhing. His mouth and eyes filled with dirt but he had no control of his convulsing body.

It took forever, each cracking bone, each tearing muscle seemed to turn one by one.

When Gaston's vision finially cleared and he could move again he stood to find he was wearing only his trousers. The shredded remains of his shirt were scattered off to the sides. With immense difficulty, Gaston stood, aching all over. Then he limped away, not quite understanding what had happened or knowing exactly where he was going.

•0•0•0•

Though no longer on the verge of death–or rather, returned from death–Gaston's life was still flashing before his eyes. Every memory he could remember was playing in succession, one after another, until.... There! One moment out of trillions, Gaston's mind snagged on an image of the village tavern, his tavern. It was empty of people and almost empty of furniture; Gaston had just bought the building, not a week after his father's death. Over the years he would decorate the place with hunting trophies and little nick-nacks from patrons. The memory felt.... Warm. Warm and safe.

Gaston couldn't thave stopped his body if he'd wanted to. His heart longed to be somewhere safe.

Dawn was still hours away and there was little light from the waning moon. In the darkness Gaston krept unseen behind houses and shops until the tavern's swinging sign came into view. He approached quickly and was surprised when the sign knocked into his forehead as he passed. Sure, Gaston was tall, usually he was the tallest man in the village. Only a few other villagers even came close, though the town got travelers from up North, where people were of larger stock, and, from time to time, one would be a few centimeters taller. But even with his large size, Gaston's head had always passed safely under the swinging sign.

Turning to look at the sign, Gaston caught sight of something in the tavern window. A huge creature: a bear! No, not a bear, something larger. It had a sloping forhead, draped in fur so black that at first all Gaston could see were the eyes. It's eyes peeled through the void, bright blue and feral.

A horrified gasp came from behind and Gaston whipped around. There stood Isabella, the baker's wife, frozen with fear. On the ground by her feet lay a basket of bread, food her husband had forgotten to bring home after closing shop. She began stumbling back, he hands visible quaked. Her foot hit a fallen loaf of bread and Isabella went crashing down. She screamed.

At the sound, something in Gaston's brain clicked into place. She was in danger, he needed to protect her from the beast. Gaston ran for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Belle's fingers had become numb and stiff from the cold hours ago. Even so, she forced them to curl in Beast's fur.

  
"Oh, God. Please."

  
  
Beast's eyes were still wide open but he could not see her.

  
  
"Wake up. Wake up! Please don't leave me!"

  
  
Still, he did not stir, an empty cavity was opening up in her chest. It was deep and cavernous and if it became completed Belle didn't think she would ever be able to fill it again.

  
  
"I love you... "

  
  
She whispered those last words. She loved him, she needed him. She could still feel the phantom heat of his paw against her cheek. The same paw had fallen limp on the stone beside them, but Belle dare not take it for she knew it would be cold.

  
She sobbed, the rain washing away her tears as they fell. It wasn't fair. How could she live in a world so cruel? How would she ever be able to smile or laugh again? Her whole body felt numb. She didn't think she would be able to stand.

  
  
But then there was warmth. Belle opened her eyes. Another spot of warmth blossomed on her shoulder. She looked up as a bright orange drop of rain fell, sizzling and glowing like fire. Then came another, a bluish-purple, then another, hot pink. More raindrops turned to light until the balcony was brighter than the stars above. Belle was so distracted by the display that she didn't realize that Beast was rising off the ground until her hands slipped completely off him and hit the wet stone.

  
  
The drops of light began to fall closer together, concentrating on Beast's body. Belle tried reaching for him but a drop hit her hand and she had to snatch it back, finding it too hot to bear.

  
  
The light got brighter and brighter, to the point that Belle had to shield her eyes. She became aware of a faint popping sound and then, with a great burst of heat, everything stilled. Belle uncovered her eyes to see Beast laying on the ground again, this time wrapped in his cloak. She stumbled forward and tore it off, ignoring the pain of handling the hot, wet fabric.

  
  
The cloak came away, but instead of auburn fur, Belle saw skin.

  
  
•0•0•0•

  
  
Adam awoke to find Belle draped over him. The story of Romeo and Juliet was the first thing that came to mind: Juliet waking from 'death' only to find Romeo dead next to her. He was overcome with dread, had Belle...

  
  
No, if she had killed herself then, like Juliet, Adam would, too.

  
  
"Belle!" She stirred, and all thoughts of star-crossed lovers fled Adam's mind.

  
  
"Beast!" She breathed. Her hands gripped his shirt.

  
He placed a hand on her back, and his fingers fell over the folds of her riding cloak. He–wait, fingers? Since when...

  
Adam pulled back abruptly, throwing his hands out in front of him. His hands! Yes, he had hands! No claws or padded paws to be seen. He let out a squeaky laugh and realized that his voice was higher, not as high as it had been as a child, but higher than it was as a beast.

  
"I'm human." The words hovering unsurely in the air, so he repeated them. "I'm human!"

  
  
The joy was euphoric, bubbling up in his chest like a geyser, bursting forth. How had this happened? When?

  
  
"Belle! I can't believe it. I'm actually human again! We broke the curse!" The witch's words echoed in his head and Adam's gaze fell to the little table just inside. On it was a silver plate, covered with broken glass and a single rose, withered and dead. "Does that mean..."

  
  
He looked to Belle, she beamed at him. "I love you," she said.

  
  
He pulled her close to his chest, she loved him. The curse was broken and Belle loved him. Beautiful, smart, kind Belle loved him.

  
  
Adam imagined waking up every morning and seeing Belle next to him. He would hold her in his arms and she would hold him in hers. He imagined the way her eyes would look after just awaking. Adam would smile and kiss her as she hummed contentedly. They would share peaceful mornings, exciting days, and beautiful nights. Together.

  
"I love you," Adam told Belle.

  
"I love you, too," she replied, hugging him tight, "you're the truest friend I've ever had."

  
  
And the illusion shattered.

  
  
•0•0•0•

  
  
After seeing the beast in the window Gaston had jumped at the baker's wife to try to shield her. The beast would no doubt kill him but maybe Isabella would have a chance to run. He wasn't being kind, god no, he was merely acting out of instinct.

  
He was a hunter.

  
When hunting you often encountered large animals. And when you're trying to kill something it usually runs, but not always. Sometimes it attacks you. When you're in a hunting party you protect the other members, no kindness about it. It was simply something you did lest you face punishment and shame.

  
This was like that. There was a rabid animal and it was attacking them. So Gaston had to protect the other people present.

Gaston threw himself over Isabella and was shocked by how small she was. The woman screamed and Gaston's head whipped around to try and get a better look at the beast.

  
But it was gone.

  
Yet the woman kept screaming.

  
"Calm down," he tried to tell her. Her screaming was hurting his ears.

  
She didn't stop. Her hand came up and hit him in the nose. He pulled back a little and Isabella beat him even harder. Her wails became frantic.

  
Gaston backed all the way off, she'd hit one of his eyes with her knuckle.

  
  
"STOP IT!" he shouted. Why was she being like this? He'd thought being unreasonable was a Belle thing, but he was beginning to wonder if it was a woman thing. He hoped not, he'd never marry if that was the case.

  
The woman stopped, eyes wide, lips quivering. Then she let out another piercing shriek and bolted away, tripping over herself as she ran.

  
  
Gaston was left staring at Isabella's crushed basket of bread. He didn't understand. So much had happened in such a short time and he didn't understand any of it.

  
He brought a tired hand to his face and jumped back when claws appeared.

He was being attacked! He needed a weapon! He--

  
  
Nothing was happening. The claws had stopped.

  
  
Gaston curled his fingers into a fist and was horrified as he watched the clawed paw do the same.

But, no. He'd seen the beast...

  
  
Gaston turned and walked back to the shop window. Again he saw a huge animal with shocking blue eyes and huge teeth. But this time the creature wore an expression of devastation.

  
  
The truth dawned on him. It felt like being slowly crushed.

  
  
Gaston ran away as fast as he could. He dove into the forest, not daring to look back.

  
  
•0•0•0•

  
  
Johnathan Dell was still wearing his nightclothes with nothing else but his heavy coat and a pair of boots. For God's sake, he wasn't even wearing socks! The frigid air bit at every bare patch of skin. His face, his hands, his legs--oh god, his legs--all stung.

  
  
The path from the village was slick with ice. It was all Dell could do to not slip. His father had broken a hip by falling on ice and Dell was not eager to follow suit.

  
  
Crunch! Dell's left foot plunged through a thin sheet of ice and into a large, slushy puddle. He let out a strangled cry. He tugged his foot out with a jerk and heard a sploosh. Oh no...Dell turned to see his lantern bob sadly before sinking to the bottom of the puddle, the flame extinguished.

  
  
Now not only was he freezing, but he also had no light. Fueled by nothing but righteous indignation, he forged on.

  
  
By the time Dell reached the castle his clothes crunched whenever he moved from all the frost clinging to them. He was cold, he was tired, and he was angrier than he'd ever been before.

  
  
When the castle door swung open and the prince himself stood there, Dell was shocked. But his shock soon gave way to stronger emotions. He remembered seeing his wife huddled on the floor, sobbing "Beast!"

  
  
"Can I help you, sir?" The prince was asking him a question, but all Dell saw was his stupidly princely face. He could feel the warmth being emitted from inside the castle and he could feel his foot shivering inside his waterlogged boot.

  
  
He was mad. So, so mad.

  
  
"All this damnable week I've been hearing 'Oh, jolly! We've finally got a proper ruler!' All week! But I say we've been doing just fine without you! Twenty years without you and we're still here!"

  
  
The prince was stunned speechless, so Dell continued.

  
  
"Why don't you act like a damn ruler then! Huh? Step your pampered backside out of your castle and solve some damn problems! We've got a beast running around and you're sitting here like a fowl-headed, good for nothing, fat-bottomed, fairy licking--"

Dell suddenly realized he didn't know where that insult was going, so he settled for taking off his wet boot and throwing it at the prince.

  
  
"Damn this winter, damn the beast, and damn YOU!"

  
  
Then he stormed off, only to realize a little way down the path that he needed his boot back.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! I'm trying to use the quarantine to update all of my projects. Wish me luck. AAAA!!
> 
> Criticism welcome.


End file.
